


Sunday.

by Skipz12



Series: Fine Stud Lexa [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fine Stud Lexa, Fluff, good ol cuteness happening here, in the same universe as Demand., or atleast still inspired by her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-27 15:56:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6290722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skipz12/pseuds/Skipz12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You are far too impatient Clark"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunday.

**Author's Note:**

> I had a lot of fun writing smut for these two last night, so I thought I'd give a shot at some fluff.
> 
> As always feel free to leave comments or anything you'd like 
> 
> the accompanying tumblr post (http://skipz12.tumblr.com/post/141300998273/you-are-far-too-impatient-clarke-fic-x)

“How much longer?”

“You are far too impatient Clarke.” She grins at that because she definitely is and it’s one of the few things she knows grates her wife’s nerves. Lexa is incredibly patient, but maybe it’s the artist in Clarke, the free spirit. She can’t sit still, she can’t be made to wait but Lexa forces her to do all those things, but at least with her it’s _not completely_ torture.

She leans back against her seat on the passenger side and revels in the soft leather interior against her bare shoulder. She had grown accustomed to Lexa’s immense appreciation for luxury, she was always comforted by the fact that it was never for status. Her wife simply enjoyed nice things and with as much as TriKru inc. gave back in charity’s and community projects no one could blame the girl for treating herself. She was one the youngest and most successful CEO’s in the country, she earned it and it shows. She turns to appraise the woman in the driver’s seat; she was always in a fantastically tailored suit and designer accessories far beyond the standard.

Today however was a special day.

Today was a Sunday and Sundays were Clarkes favorite, because these days were mandatory work free for Lexa. Mon through Sat her wife had a major company to run and Clarke herself ( _one of the most sought out modern artists in the states, thank you very much_ ) was usually neck deep in canvases and clay for most of the week.

But Sundays…

Sundays, they had both agreed sometime in their engagement, would be their day. No work, no problems, just them. They had come to a consensus that if they ever became so independent and distracted that simply just _one_ day out of the week was too inconvenient for them, then that was an unsettling issue. So they made Sundays for them to do whatever they want, they could do everything, or they could do nothing. Some weekends consisted of them wrapped in silk sheets, spending the day eating, _fucking_ , Netflix, _more fucking_ , scotch, _making love_. Some days they shared their Sundays with friends and family, with Clarke in DC at dinner with her mom or her best friend Raven, in Polis with Lexa’s brother Lincoln and his fiancée Octavia.

Some days like today were all about the adventure, and it was Lexa’s turn to choose the destination.

But she’s gone off topic here, the actual best part about Sundays were how her wife dressed. Gone were the YSL suits and Tom Ford accessories. These were the days when Lexa finally dressed down ( _down being a loose term, her wife still insisted on being the most immaculate thing in the room by far_ ). She licks her lips at the sight of her partner in the crisp denim jacket from Banana Republic, those Hudson skinny jeans that mold to her just tight enough to be delicious but loose enough to look comfortable, and the shoes. Clarke quirked her mouth up in a smile, she had bought her those Oxfords. The exclusive _Louboutins,_ Christian himself had designed them at Clarke's request after she gifted him a gorgeous painting at him and his husband’s anniversary. A pair of black stilettos for her, and black Oxfords with white trim for Lexa.

His and hers pairs…well _Hers and Hers_.

And boy did her wife look exquisite in hers.

She pops a dried pineapple in her mouth and just watches the girl. Lexa may think she’s the only one in awe at her fortune but Clarke feels just the same. She could live 1000 lives but none of them could ever beat this one, with this woman.

“Do not drop those on my seat.”

“You honestly love this car more than me.” Lexa looks over with a scoff.

“I do not. I can’t even imagine loving anything as much as I love you” and she tries to sell it with all her charm and honest to god admiration but Clarke raises a skeptical eyebrow as her legs bump against the custom dashboard. This was Lexa’s “bond car” as Clarke had come to call it. The Aston Martin DB10 was Lexa’s baby, It got washed and detailed twice a week, by monthly tune ups, Lexa practically nursed this thing. Clarke once had the audacity to try and open a bag of sour patch kids in it and Lexa had nearly burned her alive with the heat of her glare.

So excuse her if she’s not quite buying what the girls selling.

Lexa’s face is blank as she tries not to crack her resolve.

“…not always, I don’t always love it more then you” Lexa’s face cracks into the cheekiest grin and Clarke swats at her in retaliation.”

“Hey! No hitting, you’re so violent these days” and she’s laughing because like she said she loves these days with her wife carefree and together. Lexa pushes her back to her side lightly before looking at the bag of dried pineapples in her hand. “Give me one.”

“Oh! Look at this ladies and gentlemen, Miss Lexa ‘ _your body is a temple Clarke and what you put in it should reflect that_ ’ Woods, wants a _snack_.” The sarcasm dripping as she looks to her partner.

“This is the first time I’ve ever seen you snack on something that isn’t 90% processed sugar” Lexa lets her eyes scan the country side road they’re on before turning back to Clarke. “How you stay remarkably perfect is beyond me, but some of us would prefer to not to succumb to a corn syrup overdose.”

Clarke rolls her eyes at the brunette but leans over with a pineapple slice in hand. “Open.”

And Lexa does, and Clarke feeds her and Lexa lets her tongue softly caress the tips of Clarke’s fingers a moment longer than necessary and this is always how it starts…

It always ends with Clarke screaming her name in the backseat. And for the life of her she can’t, Lexa would kill her if she sneezed too hard and got a speck on the rearview mirror but has had Clarke sweating among other things on her backseat interior for months.

Where is this girl’s logic?

Lexa shifts her eyes back to the road and Clarke's thankful because she’s been cooped in this car for three and a half hours now and wants to get out but if Lexa keeps looking at her with desire in her eyes she’s going to have to demand they pull over. If that happens she surely won’t be leaving this car for another couple of hours.

She’s adjusting the volume on Lexa’s stereo, blasting whatever Tame Impala song this was when she feels the car slow. They pull up to a gorgeous rustic looking building that’s sitting on acres and acres of grape fields. Clarke looks out the window in complete awe as Lexa parks her car near the entrance, when they come to a full stop Clarke pushes out the car to get a better look. The cool air is a blessing on her skin as she steps out in her sundress and white chucks. Lexa rounds the car locking it and puts her arm around Clarke’s shoulders with a grin.

“Wine tasting?” she asks just to cement the thought.

“Not just any wine tasting, this is Anya & Gustus’s new place” Clarke's eyes widen at the statement.

“Are you serious?! This is the new location? God Lexa it’s amazing, absolutely stunning.”

“I know…” she looks back at Lexa and the girl beams at the restaurant with a genuine smile, eyes bright even behind the dark of her sunglasses. “I’m so proud of her.”

Anya was Lexa’s best friend, except the title almost felt like an understatement. Anya was practically Lexa’s sister, they had met in private school back when they were kids, and Anya a few years older than Lexa took a liking to her and had her back in the playground. They kept that same bond throughout high school and college, Anya was there for her first fight, first breakup, first promotion and it was Anya who held her hand when she buried her parents. Anya was culinary genius and her husband Gustus owned wineries up and down the state.

“Come on let’s go Clarke, they’re expecting us”

They walked into the restaurant to find it completely empty of guests, Clarke looked at Lexa questioningly.

“Just for us, I wanted you and me to enjoy this place first. I asked Anya and Gustus and they cleared a day for me”

“You didn’t have to do this Lex.” Lexa moves to wrap her hands around her waist and pulls her close.

“I wanted to though, Sundays are special, Sundays are for us and whether we’re binge watching House of Cards or I’m breaking up food fights between you and Raven, _which are so childish Clarke_ ” she pushes Lexa at the dig and the brunette laughs in return. “No matter what we’re doing, as long as it makes you smile, then it’s worth it”

Clarke takes a shuddering breath because she swears every day that her heart is too full, that she can’t love this woman anymore then she already does, that it’s not possible but her body always adjusts. Her anatomy stretches and rearranges to let more in, to let Lexa seep deeper in her bones and settle there until Clarke can feel her everywhere, and always.

She leans up and kisses her wife, soft and slow but with a heat that never seems to disappear when the two of them are involved. Her tongue gently slides over Lexa’s lips to urge this deeper when a loud cough breaks the moment.

“Couldn’t even make it three steps in the door _Commander_?” Lexa pulls away at the sound of the voice with a smirk hard on her face.

“Remember when you and Gustus couldn’t even make it to the door at all, _Second_?” At that the grin turns to a full smile and Clarke watches amused as Anya and Lexa launch themselves into each other, half laughing, half fighting ( _really?_ ) but all with love. Gustus comes to clasp a big muscled arm around Clarke his beard light on her cheek, as he hugs her.

“Can you believe these two Gustus? Can you believe we’re stuck with them?”

“I’m asking the same questions Clarke” They laugh together as they watch the two catch up. The smiles on their faces as bright as the love in their hearts.

So they sit and eat and it’s all so beautiful and comfortable. Anya cooks and amazing meal that no one is refusing to put their forks down for and Gustus brings out his best new wines for tasting and Clarke is not ashamed in the slightest to down hers to the last drop. They talk about anything and everything, Gustus and Clarke receiving stares for their surprising ( _at least on her part_ ) interest in college basketball.

_“They were a 15 seed Gustus! And they took out a number 2 seed. My bracket was shattered I had Michigan State going all the way!”_

Lexa and Anya continued to be half friends, half sisters, and all enemy.

_“So you’re out here looking like a real stud these days Lexa.”_

_“That’s what I’m hearing.”_

_“Kid you got to stop forcing employees to pay you compliments they don’t mean”_

_“Screw You.”_

And she enjoyed every minute of it.

When it was all said and done they said their goodbyes for the night and walked back out to the car, she grabs Lexa by her jacket and pulls her close as she leans against the car. She huffs a laugh at the way Lexa makes sure her purse isn’t scratching at the paint job.

“This was perfect.” And it truly was, so much so that she dreads the end of the night, that signifies she’s got to wait 6 more days til she has Lexa all to herself again. She really needs to plan them a vacation ASAP.

“Well I’m glad you liked it babe.” And when Lexa places her lips on Clarke's she immediately opens her mouth, she was denied her proper make out earlier and she’ll be damned if she doesn’t get it. Lexa pulls away after a moment, leaving Clarke hungry for more.

“So what are you planning for next weekend, Clarke” She leans back in thought, there was something she wanted to do she just had to prepare for the reaction.

“Well…” Lexa looks at her in amused anticipation. “So Roan has this food truck like 6 miles outside of Azgeda and-“

“Oh My God Clarke!”

“Wait, just wait hear me out, he makes the craziest plate of steak fries” and she can’t contain her laughter as Lexa moves out of her grasp to the driver’s side of the car, the thought of street food already clashing with her high standards. They move in the car and buckle up; Clarke is winning this no matter what as they hit the highway.

“I’m telling you the Nation of Ice Cream Cookie killers, will change your life”

“That sounds disgusting Clarke”

“I promise it will be worth it”

“Well, _you better make it worth it_ ”

And maybe it’s high from the day, or maybe it’s how the brunettes dressed, or maybe it’s because at the drop of a dime Lexa can make anything sound filthy, but Clarke is suddenly to confined to this seat and definitely this dress.

And she thinks they’re going to have to pull the car over on this return trip for sure.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I always feel my endings are rushed but yea I'm getting into a writing rhythm again so I hope yall enjoyed.
> 
> Also I have no proofreader and a tendency to write fic late at night so sorry for any grammatical errors.


End file.
